Post by cefil on Apr 18, 2008 16:30:13 GMT -6
Have I mentioned that I'm a high state official in SD (I almost met the Governor once!)? Well, here's what got me high today...
Business called me to Buffalo, in the far northwest corner of the state. I drove north out of Belle Fourche with the snow-capped Black Hills in my rearview mirror and Bear Butte off on the eastern horizon. Up ahead, Castle Rock Buttes poked their tops into view. The sky was crystal-clear blue and stretched--believe it or not--from horizon to horizon. Herds of antelope grazed alongside the road.
Halfway to Buffalo, the road passed right along the base of the dramatic Crow Buttes, site of a deadly 1822 encounter between the Sioux and the Crow. (According to the hostorical marker, the Crow men were trapped on top of the buttes by the Sioux and slowly died of thirst. Many of the Sioux later died from a sickness caught from the Crow, and their bones filled nearby Skeleton Canyon.)
My business in Buffalo concluded, I headed east on Highway 20, soon crossing the Slim Buttes through beautiful Reva Gap, and descending to the 1876 Slim Buttes battlefield. The scenery changes so quickly and so often, the drive is never dull.
I made my way through Prairie City ("City"--ha, that's funny), Bison (not to be confused with Buffalo) and Meadow, then headed south. When I hit Highway 212, I almost turned west, tempted to follow it all the way to LBH. Instead, I turned east, and came to the crossroads metropolis of Faith. The official historical marker at the edge of town declared this to be a "Small Town" (I guess just for those who couldn't tell) and a nearby unofficial marker called it "The Home of a T-Rex Named Sue." (Actually, I was happy to see the official marker, because it included a snippet of poetry by Badger Clark. I try to collect at least one new quotation a day, and for today it was there, by Faith, that I received my cite.)
The landscape continued to be fascinating. Even when it was "just" rolling prairie, it was made intriguing by the small lone hills that would constantly appear and disappear on the passing horizon. They were very much reminiscent of the Wandering Hill in Larry McMurtry's Berrybender saga. I find myself hoping they are not (as presented by McMurtry) an ill omen.
Next up...The Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, and a stop in Eagle Butte. From there. it's south to the beautiful crossing of the Cheyenne River valley. While I was crossing the river valley, an eagle sprang from the side of the road and ponderously flapped its huge wings while trying to quickly gain altitude to get away from the invader in its domain.
The country gets rough as I near the Missouri, with line after line of bluffs guarding the river. Then, suddenly, the last bluff is crossed and there's the mighty Mo herself, with Pierre on the east bank, dominated by the shining capitol dome. I cross the Missouri just north of the mouth of the Bad River, where Lewis & Clark had their first contact with the Teton Sioux.
What a great day! Is this heaven? No, South Dakota (of all places).
cefil
P.S. Oh, and the lagniappe (as they say in the French Quarter of Fort Pierre) was that as I was driving through Slim Buttes country, I was listening to a dramatization of the 1876 campaign & LBH. When the video outside the car windows is such a great match for the audio inside the car...what fun!
P.P.S. Sorry, clw...Hope this doesn't increase the homesickness!
Business called me to Buffalo, in the far northwest corner of the state. I drove north out of Belle Fourche with the snow-capped Black Hills in my rearview mirror and Bear Butte off on the eastern horizon. Up ahead, Castle Rock Buttes poked their tops into view. The sky was crystal-clear blue and stretched--believe it or not--from horizon to horizon. Herds of antelope grazed alongside the road.
Halfway to Buffalo, the road passed right along the base of the dramatic Crow Buttes, site of a deadly 1822 encounter between the Sioux and the Crow. (According to the hostorical marker, the Crow men were trapped on top of the buttes by the Sioux and slowly died of thirst. Many of the Sioux later died from a sickness caught from the Crow, and their bones filled nearby Skeleton Canyon.)
My business in Buffalo concluded, I headed east on Highway 20, soon crossing the Slim Buttes through beautiful Reva Gap, and descending to the 1876 Slim Buttes battlefield. The scenery changes so quickly and so often, the drive is never dull.
I made my way through Prairie City ("City"--ha, that's funny), Bison (not to be confused with Buffalo) and Meadow, then headed south. When I hit Highway 212, I almost turned west, tempted to follow it all the way to LBH. Instead, I turned east, and came to the crossroads metropolis of Faith. The official historical marker at the edge of town declared this to be a "Small Town" (I guess just for those who couldn't tell) and a nearby unofficial marker called it "The Home of a T-Rex Named Sue." (Actually, I was happy to see the official marker, because it included a snippet of poetry by Badger Clark. I try to collect at least one new quotation a day, and for today it was there, by Faith, that I received my cite.)
The landscape continued to be fascinating. Even when it was "just" rolling prairie, it was made intriguing by the small lone hills that would constantly appear and disappear on the passing horizon. They were very much reminiscent of the Wandering Hill in Larry McMurtry's Berrybender saga. I find myself hoping they are not (as presented by McMurtry) an ill omen.
Next up...The Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, and a stop in Eagle Butte. From there. it's south to the beautiful crossing of the Cheyenne River valley. While I was crossing the river valley, an eagle sprang from the side of the road and ponderously flapped its huge wings while trying to quickly gain altitude to get away from the invader in its domain.
The country gets rough as I near the Missouri, with line after line of bluffs guarding the river. Then, suddenly, the last bluff is crossed and there's the mighty Mo herself, with Pierre on the east bank, dominated by the shining capitol dome. I cross the Missouri just north of the mouth of the Bad River, where Lewis & Clark had their first contact with the Teton Sioux.
What a great day! Is this heaven? No, South Dakota (of all places).
cefil
P.S. Oh, and the lagniappe (as they say in the French Quarter of Fort Pierre) was that as I was driving through Slim Buttes country, I was listening to a dramatization of the 1876 campaign & LBH. When the video outside the car windows is such a great match for the audio inside the car...what fun!
P.P.S. Sorry, clw...Hope this doesn't increase the homesickness!